


Fallen From Grace

by CaptainTsukiko



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brains vs Brawns, Drabble Series, Iason is very angsty, M/M, The blondies are very strange, and very broody, war romance, why doesn't this have an all characters tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7169498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTsukiko/pseuds/CaptainTsukiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The country of Niver is at war with Jupiter's golden established country, Vdia. In this chaotic mess, Iason's humanity—long suppressed—will surface in the form of a foul mouthed, disgraceful enemy general named Riki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Feather

The roads of the tatty city carried muddy puddles. Dirt, water and silvers of ruby red blood. The air was pungent with the scent of iron, gun powder was abundant every after hours and the bodies littered around were either dead, wounded or just starting to rot. Not a single alive and unharmed man lay on sight in the field.

The women and mothers of children sat huddling together in a shivering, dirty heap, the shrill sound of children and women alike screeching and crying dominated the air. If Iason Mink was any lesser man, he would've pinched his nose in irritation. Thus, he resided in the comfort of the poker face his colleagues so complimented him for.

"War has done fair damages to them, General?" Raoul Am, his vice-General and previous batch-mate of their youthful days, questioned. His hand clutching a stark white handkerchief to his nose, he stepped closer to the carnage. Monotonous as always, Iason answered: "Their real fate won't be clear until Jupiter decides what to do with them." Raoul paused, gazing at a bloodied corpse of a child in slight distaste, before responding.

"Better prepare, things are going to much tougher. Unless you want to stay and people-watch." His ruby red cape swished as he turned back to the jeep. Probably going back to their base, Iason mused. Dust flew around him from the windy gusts. His hair was doomed. 

His sharp, cold eyes glanced at the lot of females and children being shooed into their prison vans. Many of them hollering at the heavens in despair that their God had not kept their families and themselves safe and sound.

_Peace will never come unless humanity ceases to exist, is that so hard to understand?_

Iason turned his back to the miserable humans behind him. His pale blond hair shining in the hot afternoon sunlight as he hopped on his respective jeep.


	2. Second Feather

The rain poured on hard. Much harder than expected.

The main supply base was in chaos, soldiers running haywire in a frenzy. Some even laughing with hands pressed to their mouths (it wouldn't do good to be caught.) Apparently upon the electricity going out, the first captain - Orphe Zavi, another one of Iason's older batch-mates and colleague, was stuck in the elevator.

Quite a hilarious turnout, really. That man needed a dose of karma once in a while. 

Iason hid a small smirk as a booming sound filled the fresh smelling cold air, mostly caused by the thunder. Small drops of rain hitting his face and uniform as he stood by the open window, the dark red curtains drooping to a murky drown with water. A small flicker of candlelight was the only companion in his office. Illuminated by the alight flames, the pile of paperwork screamed dread. 

Yesterday's battle was evenly successful on both sides - though the amount of bloodshed and lost supplies were no meagre slap on the wrist. He would need to re-stock and recruit new soldiers soon enough. How troublesome.

Iason sighed and walked towards his desk area. The velvet of his seat providing no significant comfort for his back.

It was astonishing - how little a reason could start a bloody war. Of course, most of the blame went to Niver for framing Vdia for murdering their crown prince in the first place. Lord knows that they themselves killed him so they had a reason to start this war. Anyone within their reach knew that they were planning to expand their country.

But Jupiter did nothing, no protestations, no confessions - nothing. It's as if the woman was waiting for this to start a war with Niver, as well. Mayhap, she just didn't want to take the initiative. He didn't know. (If he could think like Jupiter, he would be Jupiter.) But whatever she was planning on doing, the practicals went to Iason. And he had no refutations. 

To be the perfect child; one had to listen their parents after all. 

He closed his eyes.

And on cue, artificial lights flooded the room. Filling the boring and posh space of Iason Mink's office room with white light, followed by cheers and whistles. The electricity came back.

Iason went back to his paperwork, taking the elegantly shaped fountain pen in his slender hands. He had no time to waste.


	3. Third Feather

Since his birth, Iason has only seen war. Raised in the middle of a chaotic time, who could expect more? He could still freshly remember his first battle, won at the green age of fourteen. He is made to govern war. 

Nevertheless what his freedom thirsty brethren said. 

* * *

 

Blood and endless pools of blood all he could see on front of him. It did not particularly look all that distasteful to him. So far, it could be said that he felt nothing for that. But the dirt... the dirt! The distasteful sight of dirt. Germs, filth, disgustingly sickening. Iason's eyes transferred to his boots.

He absentmindedly kicked a small dirt covered pebble in front of him. (What he did not know was, that was not a 'pebble' he just kicked, it was an eye that was gouged out of one of the thousands of men that were killed in this battle.)  _Women are dirty. Men are dirty. Humans are dirty._ Humanity is dirty. D-I-R-T-Y. Dirty, dirty, dirty... the word repetitively imprinted on his mind. Refusing to cease. Refusing to grant freedom.

A mother's words washed over a numb mind:

"To be pure, to be cleansed of dirt, humanity must cease to exist. Through that: you shall purely be born, like a lotus rising from the dirty waters it was born within." A click of heels and a clawed hand on too small shoulders. "Only then you can be truly free. Humanity is full of flaws. You need to be flawless. Flawless-ness is the only thing you're born for. You must live up to it. Make your mother proud, child."

Perfection... That he shall live for. But even perfection is boring sometimes, in Iason's perception. There are no secrets in perfections, nor is it entertaining. 

(But where could sow thing flawed be found? The world around him doesn't have that, it is not mysterious for him.)

.

The unforeseen future held many dirty secrets 


	4. Fourth Feather

Time?

20:12.

Location?

Niver army head office - Red Shark division lodgings.

Riki (sorry, _General_ Riki) pulled back his hair. Hard. The sharp burst of pleasurable pain giving him relief from the ongoing headache. He quickly pulled back from a yawn.  _This_... Though this was not the time to pull back his head and relax. May it be for even seconds.

That's how Vdia's army was. Enough to give _him_ , headaches. He had been up for hours beyond end. Doing strategies, making plans,  _freaking the fuck out._ Riki's current situation was at a disaster. Even Guy's comforting, nonetheless sugar coated words gave him no relief. Before this, Vdia had been advancing north. The border. And beyond that; miles and miles of blue sea.

And talk of 'Water combat?'

Vdia's specialty and Niver's weakness.

And now, those damned strengthless schemers were suddenly heading south. They'd been quiet, unusually so. Even for Vdia. Much to their dread. Then, their leader had come up and decided that a spy was to be sent.

And who had been given the job to infiltrate that countrie's army... _Riki._  They didn't even bat and eye in Zico's direction, the one that's most famous for spy work and dirty scheming! He groaned and closes his eyes tightly, willing the pain away.

Riki wanted to shout and throw things around in anger. Surely it was all Thor's idea. Everyone knew that he was the favourite 'ass licker' of the leader. Plus, they hated each other to their guts. The winded breaths and adrenaline in his veins has everything to with dread.

And excitement.

Now... only the guy with the white beard that lived up in the sky knew what was going to happen to him. He knew with his instincts (what had kept him alive for more than fifteen years) that he wasn't going to come back alive to Guy's arms.

And that made it so much better. What was the fun in joining the army and having something to fight? This was going to end up in a bloodbath on both sides. And what was he to stop it? He either won it and got his legal citizenship or died. A slight shudder went up his spine.

Go big or go home, after all.

And he was going to go big.


	5. Fifth Feather

The arena stunk with sweat and the iron scent of blood. Many of the injured could have been soldiers mewled and cried with agony as they were hastily carried off to the infirmary. Iason sat blank faced, rigidly on his shiny iron table, judging with his sight armed with a sharp gaze. Nothing too new about that, Raoul Am mused.

He heaved a big sigh at the number of applicants gathered. He wagered that, this wasn't going to be over at least until nightfall. (And here he hoped to go back early and check on his 'Rose plant' experiment, and see if the blood he had been pouring to the plants religiously for a month had any effect yet. The blood he extracted from the dead had been very precious, after all. He would be very disappointed if it didn't get him some results.)

Many of the competitors, 'potential soldiers' to the division heads and the general, were hanging on. Problematically, the north raiding had to be postponed for this very reason. The weather wasn't at the least merciful to the lot attending.

Humid air and a bunch of malnourished and dehydrated humans weren't exactly the best mix.

Raoul really sighed this time when their newest applicant was thrown off balance and tackled down. The boy lost. But he had some usable strength. Raoul confirmed it and wrote his opinion down on a sheet. 

He looked up to the next applicant. Razi Simms... Raoul predicted him to be from the north border; with that striking black hair and similar colored eyes and all. Unusual. And coupled with the boy's choice of clothing: distasteful. Navy turtleneck? In the middle of a hot day? Was he an idiot?

But that wasn't any of relevance to the current situation, he got ready to monitor another fight.

They boy's opponent was twice his size. Muscles like slithering snakes and undefinable lumps under dark skin and a gaze that could burn. 

Interesting. 

The fight, well, was fought serious and furiously with the boy landing a near perfect first class. Curiously, his opponent didn't look too displeased. There were, of course, some signs of displeasure but they were... fabricated, to say. He shot a glance at Iason. The gaze the man was sported..

Alarmed him.

A shiver passed between his shoulders. It was the look of a predator about to corner his prey.

He'd never seen it on the person before. Maybe, maybe once when they fought together when they were young. Or when when the man had cornered a teacher on when she had made a mistake, or when capturing an enemy successfully with his strategy.

But... He blinked, why was it that it made him uncomfortable only now?

What was this ominous feeling coiling in the pit of his stomach?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh... I regret so much about the original fanfiction.net version. Bad grammar, bad characterisation and even worse plot. But the people there supported me so... And here is the fixed version. So this is going to be a little different from the original, just so you know. But nothing too big. 
> 
> Just a bit more detail.


	6. Sixth Feather

The cold metal of the gun presses against Riki's temple. "Disqualified!" The voice calls out before he can duck the offending object and beat the shit out of the motherfucker who dared to press that little fake thing against him.

Another day, another defeat.

Such was Riki's (oh sorry, he was _Razi_ now, wasn't he...) daily training routine. Defeats and wins. More defeat than win for now. Why, one can ask. Well, it went something like this:

Quinn, after his little opponent from the exam grounds had lost against him, had stupidly decided to meet him up for a small talk. Their leader had decided to assign two spies, just in case. But it just had to be the dumb one. Riki huffed.

And despite his warnings, the douche had started bitching about their leader "relaxing while they do the leg work for him." Riki had known that this guy was an idiot, but this... _This_... Ugh. He couldn't. Maybe they had sent him to die and not still not loose important resources after all.

Soon after Quinn had left, a shiny haired blondie passed through the dreary area. Maybe he had a monitor's coat on; Riki was much too fixated on that stare.

The guy's glare... Dammit, why was he so ruffled up over some guys puny glare? He should be used to this; being glared at by people. Being an ex-pickpocket had it's good advantages. You get to learn how to say, "Fuck You" with just a stare. And that's just what Riki did. Though he had felt victorious for the first few minutes, the truth had settled on him right after. If he did, how much had the guy listened and figured out?

Riki felt sweat slide down his neck.

It wasn't possible. Quinn had speech impediments that made it hard to understand what he said if you didn't listen hard enough. And the light haired dude was probably just passing by.

But if so, what did that glare mean?

Riki knew it in his bones, he had to contact Quinn and make a run for it to their leader. This very week. Or sooner than that.

* * *

 

"Iason, how should we deal with that-- _thing?_ " Iason straightens his back looks straight into Raoul. His voice smoothing over with all the nonchalance of wind:

"We don't." 

He crossed his legs at Raoul's infuriated stare. "Why?"

"We wait. The thing you speak of has one or more little friends." Hisses drip off his words, and Raoul could feel his body tensing. Considering the words, they made sense. Though the theory could be near dangerous. They still don't know who the others are. Iason's blinks:

"We lay the lure and trap them. All together."

The strange shadows the candles displayed over the walls gave the room a ghostly atmosphere.


End file.
